ozymandias
i met a traveller from an antique land


who said two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert
near them


on the sand
half sunk a shattered visage lies


whose frown
and wrinkled lip


and sneer of cold command
tell that its sculptor well those passions read


which yet survive
stamped on these lifeless things


the hand that mocked them
and the heart that fed


and on the pedestal
these words appear: my name is ozymandias


king of kings
look on my works


ye mighty
and despair


nothing beside remains
round the decay of that colossal wreck


boundless and bare
the lone and level sands stretch far away
